I wanna cry and I wanna love
But all my tears have been used up
Lisbon was watching him again. Even though he had his eyes closed, Patrick Jane knew that the team leader was watching him while he pretended to sleep. Since the Red John cases had started filing through the doors again, Lisbon had been keeping a careful eye on him, probably making sure he didn't disappear off to find the serial killer alone. She needn't have worried. If Jane knew where Red John was, he wouldn't be lying around on a couch in the middle of the CBI's office.
Jane studied her through almost-closed eyelids. Lisbon had her typical half-unimpressed, half-concerned frown on her face again. The one she reserved solely for him, and the one he received frequently during their cases together. Whether he'd antagonised a murderer or done something equally reckless (her words, not his), Lisbon graced him with the look - usually accompanied by a stern talking-to.
Recently, though, she'd been giving him the look more often. And it was softer. Even if he was only sitting on his couch reading a book, he'd look up and catch her eye briefly before she turned away and pretended she hadn't been staring. Amusingly, she seemed to be gaining some sort of attachment to him. Not affection exactly, but more like a sentimental fondness. She wasn't in love with him. She never would be, or could be.
He wasn't really sure whether it was a blessing or a curse, seeing as his own feelings for the little detective were growing by the day. It had started off as what he assumed she felt for him - fondness, and appreciation for her companionship. Now, it was a whole lot more than that..
He decided on the former: a blessing. People who loved him only ended up being used against him. Like the lyrics to some cheesy, teenage girl pop star's song, he knew he could never love again. His heart had been given away, and then the woman he loved had been torn away from him. How could anyone ever recover from that?
He would settle for being her friend. He would be there for her if she needed him, and would otherwise keep his distance. He was no longer the priority. As long as Lisbon was away from him, she was safe.
Red John would never take another woman he loved.